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Authors: Ginny Baird
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better to wait until things were further along.”
“You want to finish the calendar first?”
Haley served them each a large piece to sample. “Once she sees how wonderful it is, and all the work we’ve put into it, she’ll be less inclined to talk us out of it.”
“I thought your Nona was desperate to get to Sicily?”
“She is, but not at the expense of her granddaughters. She’d never agree to our plan in advance, and ‘put us to so much trouble.’ But once it’s fully executed...”
“Sneaky, sneaky.” Jennifer dug into her cake with a fork and took a bite, her face registering joy as she rolled icing around on her tongue. “This is delicious.”
Haley tasted it, thrilled to agree. “The only trick will be convincing her to write her memoirs.”
“What if she doesn’t want to?”
“Rachel is our backup plan. She’s going to claim she’s always wanted to write Nona’s book. Please, Nona. Please. She’s totally prepared to beg. The thing is, she’ll be wanting authentic details, which is why Rachel’s taking Nona back to Italy.”
“Rachel? I thought the more likely candidate would be Bev?”
“Yeah, but Rachel’s our writer, see? She studied that in school. We all worry over Nona traveling that distance alone. Someone has to escort her. The group voted on Rachel.”
Jennifer studied her a long moment. “What if—after you go to all this trouble—your Nona doesn’t want to stay?”
“We’ve budgeted enough money for her return trip, just in case. But, knowing our Nona, that won’t be necessary. When Nona makes up her mind, the decision’s done.”
“I guess your part was easy.” Jennifer polished off her cake, but Haley was still eating, the prongs of her fork dancing around that dainty confectionary rosebud that looked oh, so good.
“Since I’m getting married this week, yeah. The dress part was taken care of anyway.”
“When will the calendar be ready?”
“We’re doing a group shoot on Friday. Tiny’s getting everything set up at Victor’s.”
The door chime jangled and Haley glanced toward the front of the shop, seeing Peter had entered.
“Peter! Wait! Don’t look!” She quickly passed her cake plate to Jennifer and stepped into the counter area, sliding shut the door to the kitchen.
“Weren’t you expecting me?” he asked. “I thought we were going for a ride?” Peter’s complexion was ruddy beneath a short mop of sandy hair and his green eyes smiled at her. She could see his ten-speed beyond him, through the shop’s glass front door. He’d leaned it up against a lamppost and dangled his helmet from the handlebars. That’s why his hair was such a wreck. But Haley didn’t mind. He looked positively yummy standing there in biking pants and a fitted sports jacket, his clothing hugging the toned contours of his body.
“Uh, yes. I am…was.” She felt temporarily lost in the moment, just as she had the first time she’d laid eyes on him. They’d both joined a hiking club, and Haley had barely been able to keep her mind on the trail. Peter was new to Chandelier and had signed up for several organizations upon arriving. It wasn’t until Haley saw him for the third time at pickup basketball that she gathered the nerve to ask what his job was. He was in cottage industry consulting and had moved here on account of the ocean. He was close enough to drive to the city when he had to, but most days he could work at home and enjoy the benefits of being in this cliffside community by the sea. There was so much to take advantage of here—so many things he wanted to do, including mountain biking.
Peter surveyed her jeans and icing-splattered apron. “Do you need a minute to change?” Haley lived in an apartment right above the bakery she ran, which made things extra convenient. They’d decided Peter would live there after the wedding, rather than Haley moving to his place, as that made the most sense.
“Uh, yeah. That would be
“You want to finish the calendar first?”
Haley served them each a large piece to sample. “Once she sees how wonderful it is, and all the work we’ve put into it, she’ll be less inclined to talk us out of it.”
“I thought your Nona was desperate to get to Sicily?”
“She is, but not at the expense of her granddaughters. She’d never agree to our plan in advance, and ‘put us to so much trouble.’ But once it’s fully executed...”
“Sneaky, sneaky.” Jennifer dug into her cake with a fork and took a bite, her face registering joy as she rolled icing around on her tongue. “This is delicious.”
Haley tasted it, thrilled to agree. “The only trick will be convincing her to write her memoirs.”
“What if she doesn’t want to?”
“Rachel is our backup plan. She’s going to claim she’s always wanted to write Nona’s book. Please, Nona. Please. She’s totally prepared to beg. The thing is, she’ll be wanting authentic details, which is why Rachel’s taking Nona back to Italy.”
“Rachel? I thought the more likely candidate would be Bev?”
“Yeah, but Rachel’s our writer, see? She studied that in school. We all worry over Nona traveling that distance alone. Someone has to escort her. The group voted on Rachel.”
Jennifer studied her a long moment. “What if—after you go to all this trouble—your Nona doesn’t want to stay?”
“We’ve budgeted enough money for her return trip, just in case. But, knowing our Nona, that won’t be necessary. When Nona makes up her mind, the decision’s done.”
“I guess your part was easy.” Jennifer polished off her cake, but Haley was still eating, the prongs of her fork dancing around that dainty confectionary rosebud that looked oh, so good.
“Since I’m getting married this week, yeah. The dress part was taken care of anyway.”
“When will the calendar be ready?”
“We’re doing a group shoot on Friday. Tiny’s getting everything set up at Victor’s.”
The door chime jangled and Haley glanced toward the front of the shop, seeing Peter had entered.
“Peter! Wait! Don’t look!” She quickly passed her cake plate to Jennifer and stepped into the counter area, sliding shut the door to the kitchen.
“Weren’t you expecting me?” he asked. “I thought we were going for a ride?” Peter’s complexion was ruddy beneath a short mop of sandy hair and his green eyes smiled at her. She could see his ten-speed beyond him, through the shop’s glass front door. He’d leaned it up against a lamppost and dangled his helmet from the handlebars. That’s why his hair was such a wreck. But Haley didn’t mind. He looked positively yummy standing there in biking pants and a fitted sports jacket, his clothing hugging the toned contours of his body.
“Uh, yes. I am…was.” She felt temporarily lost in the moment, just as she had the first time she’d laid eyes on him. They’d both joined a hiking club, and Haley had barely been able to keep her mind on the trail. Peter was new to Chandelier and had signed up for several organizations upon arriving. It wasn’t until Haley saw him for the third time at pickup basketball that she gathered the nerve to ask what his job was. He was in cottage industry consulting and had moved here on account of the ocean. He was close enough to drive to the city when he had to, but most days he could work at home and enjoy the benefits of being in this cliffside community by the sea. There was so much to take advantage of here—so many things he wanted to do, including mountain biking.
Peter surveyed her jeans and icing-splattered apron. “Do you need a minute to change?” Haley lived in an apartment right above the bakery she ran, which made things extra convenient. They’d decided Peter would live there after the wedding, rather than Haley moving to his place, as that made the most sense.
“Uh, yeah. That would be
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